


Bad Medicine

by oneswhonever



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, College, Drug Use, Gay Sex, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, always really short chapters tbh, idk why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-06 08:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneswhonever/pseuds/oneswhonever
Summary: Jack is tired of how boring his life is. Felix shows him another one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the shortness - it's just an introduction!

It was a little past three in the morning when two boys came into the gas station, reeking something fierce. One appeared to be some variant of Asian, with tan and delicious muscles. The second was tall and lean, looking like a beanstalk, with icy blonde hair.

Both were gorgeous. Not so much Jack's type, though. 

The tall one came up to the counter whilst the other darted back towards the snacks. He spoke with a refined accent that Jack couldn't quite pinpoint - "Hey, how's it going? Can I get a pack of Camel lights?"

Jack's hand gravitated towards the compartment above him, slipping out the blue package with ease. "Not bad, man. Got an ID?"

The man, who had an undeniable baby face, slipped his wallet out of his pocket, and handed over his driver's license with zero hesitation. The name read Felix Kjellberg, and it was only two days after his twenty-first birthday, which would explain why the party still seemed to be ongoing. Jack ran them through the scanner, sliding the ID over the counter and back to Felix. 

"Can't imagine it gets very busy here," Felix commented, his voice thick and heavy as he slid his card. Jack wordlessly handed him his receipt. "I would think someone like you would be out on a night like this. Partying."

Jack blinked heavily. "What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Felix gestured at the green hair, and the arms covered with tattoos (mostly black ink); evidently, he was also eyeing the gauges. "I mean, you got a good style, and you're hot as fuck."

The other man that Felix came in with approached the counter, having picked out a bag of chips and an energy drink. "Felix, leave the poor kid alone. You're high as fuck." He looked to Jack and set his items down on the counter, which were immediately rang in. "He's got a point though, man. Why aren't you, like, out with friends? This is how you choose to spend your life. 

  
"I don't know what you lot do with your lives that mean you don't have to work, but not everyone else has that privilege," Jack tried to keep his voice void of emotion, but he was snippy. He was tired. He wasn't in the mood to deal with shithead stoners. "I've got a tuition to pay."

"Well, then," Felix leaned over the counter and squinted hard at Jack's name tag. Jack wondered why he had to strain so hard to read four measly letters. "Jack. I go to college, too, but I still manage to have a life. Don't you ever take a break from work?"

"Nope."

After a prolonged silence, Felix flipped his receipt over to the blank side, swiping a pen from the counter and scribbling a messy series of numbers on it, smudging ink. His friend, items paid for, stood behind him in silence, munching on his chips. He wasn't looking at either one of them - seemingly infatuated with his choice of snack. Munchies, Jack presumed. 

"Well," Felix said, sliding the receipt over the counter, to Jack. "If you ever want to take a break, call me. Come on, Mark."

The two left, and Jack stared at the number curiously. "Unlikely," he murmured, to no one but himself, but slipped it deep into the pocket of his jeans, anyways. 

Just in case. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jack's life was nothing other than a boring montage of mundane activities that involved getting two hours of sleep after an overnight shift, before having to wake up at ten in the morning to go to class. Classes are where he remained until five, at which point he would return to his pathetic excuse for an apartment and chow down on a cheap meal (hot dogs or pasta, take your pick) before taking a nap on his bed (consisting of one blanket and one pillow) until he had to go back to work. On his days off, he sat in front of a low resolution television, ate dollar store popcorn, and wasted his day away. 

He's had depression since he could remember, and his roommate, Dan, mused that this was probably why. However, Dan didn't have much of a life other than gay bars with his boyfriend and working at a clothing store as an assistant manager. Dan was married to that job. Jack reasoned and tried to tell him to take it easy - as if he wanted to work a shitty retail job for the rest of his life? Well, Dan seemed to want just that. It seemed to be a center point for a lot of his and Phil's arguments - Phil was an English major at the local university, and was getting his feet in the water teaching at an elementary school. He loved kids, and wanted some of his own. Dan wasn't as enthused about this.

Not that Jack ever listened, or anything.

As his days went on, part of him hoped that Felix and Mark might come in some day. He still had Felix's number, but he didn't want to make the call. The rational part of him knew that it was just a plain stupid idea. He didn't need to get mixed up in the likes of two stoners. He had enough of his own problems, thank you (he didn't, really, but his mind was always clouded with stormy thoughts and he preferred to deal with those alone). 

"Just call him," Dan urged from his spot on the counter, where he sat cross-legged with a plate of pizza rolls. Jack was several feet away, kicked back on the couch watching a rerun of That 70's Show. "He gave you his number. That's an open invitation."

Jack groaned, sinking down farther into the couch, hiding under a mess of blankets. "Dan, he'll get the wrong idea if I call. What if he's gay and that was like, a booty call, or something?"

"You're not as irresistible as you think you are, Jack," Dan teased. He set his plate down on the counter before bounding over, jumping over the back of the couch and successfully landing on Jack's stomach - causing the brunette to wheeze in protest. "Besides that, would that really be the worst thing? You've been so lonely recently...it might be good for you."

"I support the gay lifestyle, don't get me wrong, but I'm not gay. He was probably just messing with me, anyway. Get off of me, would you? And lay off the pizza rolls."

Dan rolled off of Jack, and down onto the floor. "Hey, I'll even go with you, if you want. If he tries anything, I'll knock his block off. But you really need to change your life up, Jack. It's depressing seeing you laze around the house all the time."

Jack relented, and stretched over - snatching up the little slip of paper from the coffee table that contained Felix's number. He kept it out just in case he ever had the balls to actually dial the number. He knew Dan wasn't going to get off his case about it; he never did. Giving in was about the easiest thing Jack could do, so he carefully typed the number into his phone and hit call, putting it on speaker so that Dan would be able to here when (if) Felix answered.

_"Hey, this is Felix. Go ahead and leave a message and I'll get back to ya."_

With a breathy sigh, Jack hit the end button before the beep could even go off. Figures that Felix wouldn't answer the phone. Maybe it was fate deciding that Felix was no good for him. Stupid fate always had to be right.

"At least he didn't catfish you," mused Dan, finally rising from the floor. He looked at Jack before copying the sigh, clapping him delicately enough on the back. "Hey, I've got an idea. Phil's friend Ingrid is having a birthday party tonight. A night of drinking might do you some good."

"Dan, I don't do that sort of thing. Last time I went to a party you tried to get me laid."

"No tricks, I promise. Scout's honor!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Have I told you that I hate you this week?"

"About five times," Dan replied swiftly, one arm wrapped tightly around Jack's waist (the damned height difference made this a difficult task; it wasn't enough for Dan to be unfairly gorgeous, he also had to be ungodly tall). "Now hush up. You're not going to make any friends with that snark."

"I'm not in the mood to make friends," Jack groaned, trying to dodge past the mess of sweaty, dancing bodies. They had been there for a grand total of three minutes, and already someone had spilled beer right down the back of Jack's black shirt. He had wanted to leave right then and there, but Dan wasn't allowing any of that. "Especially not with anyone here."

Dan copied the very same groan. "Jack, come on. I know it's going to be hard for you to believe, but not everyone here is a bad person. It's going to be  _fine._ "

"That's starting to seem pretty doubtful."

"It wouldn't kill you to be less pessimistic," Dan said, leading Jack over to a cooler. He popped it open and fished out two beers, one of which he passed onto his friend - who snatched it with a permanent frown on his face. "Most normal people would be happy to have a day off to party."

"Who even _are_ you?" Jack sneered, snatching away Dan's bottle opener after the brunette had popped his drink open. He wasn't very practiced in opening beers, considering the fact that drinking was something he  _never_ did. He managed to open it on the first go, but recoiled at the scent. He never cared for the taste or smell of alcohol. "You never take time off."

"Of course I don't. But I know how to savor it when it's given to me."

Jack thought that was bullshit (he _knew_ it was bullshit, as a matter of fact) but he wouldn't call Dan on it. Instead, he focused on his drink. He didn't care for the taste of beer. It went down smoothly enough, that was never the issue - it was just the taste. He wasn't going to let Dan get him drunk tonight. The brunette had no problem becoming easily intoxicated, but Jack certainly didn't care for the feeling, and especially when he was in a room full of strangers.

"Hey, man," Dan murmured, leaning in far too close for Jack's comfort. He knew Dan had a boyfriend, but that certainly didn't change the fact that, when they had first moved in together, Dan had been constantly hitting on him. He swore it was just banter, but Jack couldn't be too sure about that ( _especially_ considering that, the first time they got drunk together, Dan popped a boner and tried to kiss him; he forgot all about it, but during the next morning's confrontation, told Jack not to be so full of himself). "I know I dragged you out to this and all, but seriously, try to have a good time. There's nothing wrong about wanting to have fun."

Jack sighed, avoiding all contact as he traced the label on his bottle. "Our ideas of fun differ greatly, Dan. I don't want to be getting drunk on all my days off, or partying with people I don't even know."

"JACK!" called a voice from the other side of the room before Dan could so much as blink. Both of their heads turned, and Jack gasped when he saw a familiar blonde jog in his direction. "Hey! I'm sorry I missed your call! I've been, well,  _here_ all night."

Felix was approaching, with Mark hot on his trail. Jack could tell that they had both been drinking, but there was something off about the both of them that he just couldn't place. Mark was constantly wiping his nose on the sleeve of his flannel, and Felix had the darkest circles under his eyes that Jack had ever seen (which said a lot, seeing as he and Dan both got  _very_ little sleep). 

Dan pulled on Jack's arm and whispered, "Do you know those guys?"

"They're the gas station guys," Jack whispered back, suddenly with a tight feeling in his chest. "I didn't think  _this_ was their kinda thing."

Before Dan could respond, Felix had approached - and was promptly pulling Jack into his arms, squeezing him tight. 

Jack knew he would regret his choice to come to the party, and he was right.


End file.
